


Duty

by LilyAngorian



Series: A Gangster Always Needs A Nurse [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders
Genre: But she reminds him of Grace, F/M, Set during s2ep2 in the hospital, So he doesn't really mind, Tommy talks to a nurse, Who probably has a bit too much to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2668484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAngorian/pseuds/LilyAngorian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just something I had in mind ever since that episode. Mostly dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty

"I've got your dinner Mr Shelby." 

The nurse closed the door behind her, walking towards him with a plate of food, a bowl of cool water and a stack of fresh bandages balanced on a thin metal tray.

Tommy lifted a hand slightly, gesturing to his left and wincing at the pain that shot through his chest as he did so.

"Leave it on the table."

She was blonde - the wrong shade - a lock of hair straying over her starched white collar, dancing over her shoulder as she bent to lower the tray onto the table. Tommy moved his head on the pillow so he could see her with his good eye and winced again. His whole body felt aflame, the sheets around him dampened with sweat, clinging to his back. She looked over at him with concern, and lay the back of her hand gently against his cheek, and then his forehead.

"You're burning up." 

Her thumb lightly smoothed away the hair that fell sticky against the top of his face, and she reached for a cloth, dipping it into the bowl of water and dabbing it lightly over the bruises and the heat beneath. 

"I'm fine. I won't be staying much longer." 

"You're hardly well enough to stand Mr Shelby. I don't think you'll be going anywhere for a while yet." 

She wrung the cloth out and wet it once more, returning it to his forehead, but he caught her hand and firmly moved it away.

"I can't stay here." 

"The room not good enough for you?" 

She had an almost teasing smile upon her lips, but Tommy picked up a slight edge to her tone, lingering just below the surface. 

"The room's fine. So am I. I'll be discharging myself tomorrow." 

"If you stop yourself healing Mr Shelby you may never be fine again."

She paused for a moment, looking to the closed door before perching down on the chair next to the bed, a hand reaching down to rub her aching ankles as subtly as she could manage.

"Long shift?" 

She nodded wearily and then drew her hand to the clipboard by his bed and started to flick through his medical notes. 

“You’re very pretty for a nurse.”

It was blunt, Tommy testing the water, wondering how she would react.

"The men who did this to you...you think they'll come here looking to finish the job?"

Tommy shut his eyes. He was almost pleased.

"Seems likely."

"Then perhaps you're out of your depth." 

Tommy's lips curled at the corners, but his eyes remained closed.

"You talk to Matron like that?"

"Forgive me, Mr Shelby, but I haven't ever seen Matron in the state you're in."

He lazily opened his eyes, catching her gaze and nodding slightly, his smile lingering.

"Do you smoke?"

"Not while I'm working."

"You can pass me my cigarettes then."

He brushed her hand as she passed the case to him, taking one out and lifting it to his lips before striking a match with evident discomfort. He blinked at her through the smoke, watching the particles of dust swirling around her in the light from the window.

She did not look away, did not blush or turn her head from his stare.

"What is it?"

"You remind me of someone."

He heard the crack in his voice, his exhaustion and pain finally breaking through. Her face softened somehow, her hands picking at the skirt of her dress absentmindedly. Tommy coughed uncomfortably, looking away towards the door.

She followed his gaze.

"When your brother came in to see you earlier, you should have seen the faces of the patients who he passed in the corridor. Some of them were terrified."

"Whatever you've heard about me or Arthur, I can assure you we don't make a habit of attacking hospital patients."

"I think you misunderstand me Mr Shelby. There are a lot of people in this place with little life left, and not much to live for. I don't think they fear for their own safety." 

Her voice seemed strained.

She watched him carefully, attempting to judge his reaction, but his face remained impassive as he drew the smoke into his lungs.

"It's the thought of you Shelby's scattering money at the graves of their loved ones. The mistakes, the ones who got in the way, the ones who asked questions.” 

Her hands tightened on her leg, as if she was anchoring herself, reminding herself of who she was talking to.

Tommy said nothing, and so she filled the silence.

“Most of those men, they aren’t soldiers. They aren’t dispensable."

"And what would you know of soldiers? Like them do you? I imagine you had the pick of them before they went off to fight."

"I was V.A.D, with the ambulances out on the French Coast. I picked out the bullets, heard them scream. Watched them die."

Her voice was near to expressionless, but the stroke of anger in her eyes betrayed her.

"You're can't be old enough."

"I lied in my papers. Nobody cared enough to check after a while, they needed all the help they could get. By the time they realised, any damage had already been done."

"Weren't you scared?"

"Yes. But no more than my brother, and he had to kill people."

She paused. 

"At least I never pulled a trigger."

"Your duty was to care, you had no need to."

“I hate that word. Boys raised wading in mud to the sound of gunfire, tell me do you think that duty can be of such great importance when it comes to that?"

"I'm not the King, it isn't my decision."

"And yet anyone would think you are a king Mr Shelby, from the way you walk these streets. Though, it seems someone doesn't think so.” 

She gestured to his injuries, and he pointed back at her, cigarette between his fingers trailing wisps of smoke.

“The point of duty is that it isn’t easy, it isn’t fair. It’s what you do.”

“I do my duty everyday here Mr Shelby, and nobody has ever died at my hands. Where do you draw the line between duty and murder?”

From the corridor outside they could make out two men passing the door, voices low as they talked. Inside the ward the silence hung heavy.

"You're very outspoken." 

"I've heard that before. We women should know our place I suppose?" 

"I think my Aunt would strike me down if I agreed with that.”

“I suppose the words all lose their meaning eventually. Murder. Duty. It’s all just pain.”

Tommy did not reply.

She stood up, brushing her dress down, tucking the loose strands of hair beneath her cap.

"Leaving already?"

"Matron might get the wrong idea if I stay much longer."

"Does that happen very often?"

"Eat your dinner Mr Shelby." 

He waited until she had her hand on the door before he asked quietly 

"Your brother...?"

"Dead."

"I'm sorry."

"Everyone's sorry Mr Shelby. It doesn't mean that anything will change."

She closed the door firmly behind her.


End file.
